


I'll Have You

by finefeatheredfriend



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: And So Does the Reader, Angst, Arthur Morgan has a temper, Can be read as gender neutral reader, Fist Fight, Kissing, M/M, Rough Kissing, Start of Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finefeatheredfriend/pseuds/finefeatheredfriend
Summary: Furious that Arthur told Lenny "no one would have him," you pick a fight with the big outlaw with interesting consequences
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Male!Reader, Arthur Morgan/Reader, Arthur Morgan/You
Kudos: 85





	I'll Have You

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write more of this one, depending on reception.
> 
> CW: Fist fight  
> CW: Description of mild injury  
> CW: mention of oral sex  
> CW: mention of outing someone

“Hey,” you greeted him as you walked up, offering a cold beer and finishing the rest of your own before tossing the bottle aside. Arthur took it from you, nodding in thanks. The evening was warm and clear, stars twinkling merrily above you. You swallowed, clenching your jaw before you spoke again. You were about a hundred yards outside of camp, just within range of earshot if any camp members needed you or Arthur. “Heard a rumor you told Lenny ‘nobody’d have you,’” you said, keeping your tone deliberately neutral.

“Yeah, so?”

“‘Yeah, so?’ Yeah, so what the hell is that supposed to mean, Arthur?” you demanded, your temper rising hot. “So does that mean that what we did together in Coulter meant nothin’? Was that just you warmin’ yourself up? Gettin’ your dick wet at my expense?”

“You’re gonna wanna watch your tone with me, boah,” he snapped, shoulders tensing where he sat on a log. “And keep your goddamn voice down.”

“Why? So you can hide me? Cuz you’re ashamed of me?”

“I ain’t…!” he started at a yell, huffed a breath, lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “I ain’t ashamed of you. I just don’t want everyone knowin’ my business. Not everyone in the camp knows that I…”

“What? Hunt and fish?” you taunted, “get on your horse from both sides of the saddle?”

“That’s enough, Y/N,” he insisted, glaring up at where you hovered above him. “What we did…”

“What we did was good, Arthur. Real good. Now I know we can’t be…that way outside of camp, but you know as well as I do that Dutch and Hosea–” He slammed his beer down on a stump and lunged toward you.

“Stop, you stop _right there_ , that’s someone else’s personal business and you ain’t got any right to be runnin’ your goddamn mouth about it,” Arthur snarled, standing and jabbing his finger into your chest. You glared at him, your eyes almost level with one another’s, his startlingly blue ones full of anger and something else…doubt?

“Just tell me why, Arthur. Tell me why you’d do that with me and then just act like I don’t exist? I ain’t sensitive, I just wanna know. I deserve an explanation. You owe me that much.”

“Firstly, Y/N, I don’t owe you nothin’. Second, I don’t pretend you don’t exist. Has it occurred to you that I got other things on my mind?!”

“Yeah,” you hollered back, “it has because that’s why I put your dick in my mouth in the first place, you asshole! To try and help you relax!”

“You son-of-a-bitch,” Arthur growled in a low tone, knocking you bodily to the ground. “How dare you out me like that? There’s people in earshot. Abigail’s tent is _right there_ for Christ’s sake.” Abigail’s tent was an easy hundred yards away and you both knew it. Your temper flaring, you kicked Arthur’s legs out from under him, scuffling in the leaves and grass, grunting, pushing his head to the side with a clenched fist, letting out a hard huff of air when he planted his own fist in your belly.

“It meant something to me,” you blurted, hitting him hard in the teeth with your elbow.

“Goddammit!” he hollered, spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. Furious now, he clocked you in the jaw and then popped you in the eye. You groaned with pain, shaking your head. You scrambled in the dirt, clutching his bandolier and yanking him away from you, but he flung out a fist with lightning speed and terrible strength, slamming hard into your ribcage. You took a stuttering breath, the wind knocked out of you. Arthur climbed atop you, one leg on either side of your waist, one hand fisted in your shirt, holding you upright, prepared to hit you with his other hand. You met his eyes and hissed out a hard breath.

“Go ahead. Hit me. But it ain’t me you’re mad at, Arthur. I can’t help that every person you’ve ever been with has hurt you and left you, but you ain’t even givin’ me a chance, you bastard! I care about you, you dumb son-of-a-bitch, you’re just too goddamn blind to see it. So hit me. Just hit me, if you want to so bad,” you told him, defeated. Arthur glared down at you, his fist still clenched in preparation to strike you, his other hand still gripping your shirt. You were panting, waiting for the inevitable blow, knowing his temper frequently got the better of him, knowing he might very well kill you if he lost control entirely.

With a jerk, Arthur pulled you up higher and you groaned, feeling the blow to your stomach and ribs, aching. Arthur stared you hard in the eyes, and his raised fist softened, unclenched. He put his hand along the side of your jaw, tilting your head to the side to take a look at the swelling around your eye where he had hit it.

“You care ‘bout me? Really?” he asked you softly, voice hopeful. You panted, sniffled, your whole face aching.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Oh,” he blurted, and his gaze trailed to your lips. Pulling you up again and bending slightly where he hovered over you, his soft pink lips pressed to yours experimentally. You wanted to bite him, or hit him again, but…this was what you wanted. Past his defenses…over all those walls he erected around himself. You put a hand behind his neck and kissed him back, your lips slotting together, his tongue carefully pressing past your lips and into your mouth to tangle with your own. You pushed back, forcing yourself up with a groan and shoved his shoulders, taking the power back, taking control of him. You pressed him to the ground forcefully and he let you, one of his legs threading through your own, grinding his thigh up against your crotch.

You kissed him hard, nipping at his lips until they were swollen and red and then you tipped your head back, meeting his eyes in the light of the half-full moon.

“I’ll have you, Arthur. Don’t you ever say nobody will have you. Cuz I will. You just gotta let me, you fool.”

“You always insult men you’re comin’ onto?” Arthur asked you dryly, eyes glittering.

“Only when they deserve it,” you told him. “Now come on,” you prompted, pulling him to his feet. “Your beer’s gettin’ warm.”


End file.
